


what we were then

by Morning66



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Conversations, Gen, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), M/M, Marauders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning66/pseuds/Morning66
Summary: “But, how?” Sirius asks. “How’d you think I could have betrayed him?”Him. It’s funny how they say it like that, as if there is only ever one him. Not the Dark Lord, not God. James. Though maybe James always was a bit of a god to all of them.(Or, Remus and Sirius have a long overdue conversation.)
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/James Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	what we were then

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! =D
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> Warnings: swearing

The kettle whistles, loud and shrill in the silent kitchen and Remus gets up and turns it off, grabbing two mugs from a weathered looking cabinet that is for some inexplicable reason missing a door. The kettle is Muggle, the entire kitchen at Remus’s cottage is Muggle for no reason that Sirius can tell. Certainly not because he’s expecting visitors since the entire place is so far out of the way that it’s hard to imagine anyone visiting, Muggle or magical.

Sirius glances down at his hands loosely clasped together on the table. If he were fourteen, he’d think the whole place was so bloody brilliant, all outfitted with Muggle appliances. He’d probably go around poking and prodding at everything, first with his wand, and then when nothing blew up, with his fingers.

Sirius isn’t fourteen anymore, though, and so much time has elapsed, so many things have elapsed, between those two times that it’s almost like they’re two separate people that have never met.

Remus slides the tea toward Sirius. It’s in a blue mug with a chip on the brim that he turns away from his mouth so he doesn’t cut his lip. He thinks about adding sugar, but doesn’t.

“Y’okay there, Padfoot?” Remus asks. “You’re rather quiet.”

It’s a joke, Sirius thinks, but not a funny one. He’s always quiet now, always struggling to get his brain to stay in the present.

Instead of answering, though, he asks, “How could you think I’d betray them?” 

He keeps anger and hurt out of his voice, fills it with curiosity instead. He’s not mad because what other choice did Remus have then to believe he’d been a traitor? Those were dark days, then, not filled with the brightness of their childhood. You couldn’t trust anyone and there had been evidence.

“Sirius,” Remus breathes, and Sirius hears the _let’s not talk about this now_ in his voice. “Sirius, it’s been a long time.”

Sirius could let it go, but then he’s never been the kind of man to let things go. He needs to ask. It’s a discussion that’s long overdue, since that full moon over a year ago when they almost became murderers.

“I’m not mad, Moony,” Sirius says, then laughs, short like a bark. “Well, not angry, anyhow. I just wanted to know.”

Remus sighs and Sirius can see him cracking. He could always crack Remus as a kid. Back then, though, all he ever wanted was Remus to help him with his History of Magic essay because he never paid attention in class and skipped half the time.

“Those were dark days, Pads,” Remus says. “We all suspected each other, you know that.”

“But, how?” Sirius asks. “How’d you think I could have betrayed him?”

Him. It’s funny how they say it like that, as if there is only ever one him. Not the Dark Lord, not God. James. Though maybe James always was a bit of a god to all of them.

“Don’t hex me for this,” Remus says and Sirius laughs for real, then.

“Think I grew out of the hexing everyone phase.”

Remus flashes him a smile then and for a second, Sirius sees a glimpse of a boy he knew eons ago, one with a dry sense of humor who liked reading and sleeping and never was strong enough to reign the lot of them in. Then, as quick as it came, Remus’s real smile is gone.

“Guess,” Remus says and takes a breath. “Guess I figured you got tired of always being the third wheel.”

If Sirius was expecting anything, it wasn’t that. He’d thought Remus might say something about his family, the Black blood in his veins he never could escape no matter how hard he tried. Maybe, maybe if he was feeling brutally honest, something about how Sirius always did take things too far, a nod to that long ago prank.

“Sorry, it’s a Muggle expression,” Remus offers at Sirius’s confusion. “I meant, I figured you got lonely after James and Lily got married. Felt like you lost your place or something since you two were always best mates. Resented Lily maybe.”

Sirius blinks, tilts his head to the side like a confused dog. “I loved Lily,” he says.

They all had, then. She’d been fun, bright and brilliant with a fiery temper and a warm heart. She could reign them in when they flew too far from reality, be the anchor Remus had always tried and failed to be.

“We all did,” Remus says gently, then continues hesitantly, “I thought you might have been jealous of her, though.”

It takes a second for Sirius to process that, for it to sink into his brain. For a minute, he thinks he must be misinterpreting, but then he takes a good look at Remus who’s staring awkwardly at the table as if his tea has suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world.

Sirius takes a large gulp out of his mug. It’s too soon and it burns going down his throat and he chokes loudly.

“Easy, Pads,” Remus says.

“Oh,” Sirius says finally. “How the fuck did you figure that out?”

Remus looks up and meets his eyes. He shrugs. “We grew up together. You and him, you were always attached at the hip and he was always after Lily and you—“ Remus takes a breath, pauses. “Sirius, I saw how you looked at him.”

When Sirius was sixteen, the whole thing of maybe having non-heterosexual feelings for his best friend had sent him into a tailspin, a midlife crisis of sorts. When he was sixteen, he’d probably rather get decapitated by one of those suits of armor they were always cleaning during detention than have anyone know. Now, after everything, the fear suddenly seems stupid, insignificant, especially compared to the war, compared to Azkaban.

“Suppose if anyone knew, it would have been you, Moony. Always were the smart one.”

Remus huffs out a bitter laugh. “You know that isn’t true. You and James could have run circles around me.”

“Had more sense than the two of us combined, anyhow,” Sirius rubs his temples. “You never said anything.”

Remus takes a sip of his tea. “We were pretty busy then. Figured you’d rather I didn’t say anything. You were always running around with any girl that looked at you.”

Sirius hears the unspoken _and there were a lot of girls who threw themselves at you._

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I was an arrogant berk then, wasn’t I?”

Remus laughs, and this time it’s real. “We all were, I think. But we kids, Pads. It’ll be different now.”

Sirius thinks back to the first war which sometimes seems like last year, the entirety of Azkaban a dream. He remembers going on missions, the thrill of fighting thrumming through his veins, James always at his back. That first year, even into the second it had been a game, an extension of the Gryffindor-Slytherin quidditch matches from school.

By the time they’d comprehended the truth of it all, everything was already going to hell. 

“It will,” Sirius agrees, then quieter, “Thanks, Moony. For not saying anything and for...everything.”

Remus reaches out and clasps his shoulder. “Anytime, Pads.”

They finish their tea in silence, the quiet comfortable silence of the last of the Marauders. Broken, fractured, but still continuing on.

  
  
  



End file.
